


Fit To Be Tied

by da_petty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crack, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, Object Insertion, Shibari, Silly, Smut with a thin veneer of case fic.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-01 00:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13283427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_petty/pseuds/da_petty
Summary: Lestrade brings Sherlock onto a case where the victim was bound in an intricate manner. Lestrade's never seen anything like it. Sherlock has read about the art of Shibari. John is quite the artist and Sherlock wants a demo, personally.





	1. In the beginning...

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. Message received. Due to popular (and pushy) demand I'm going to add a wrap up chapter complete with John and Sherlock banging with hats off! That will be the end of this particular story. I really mean it, guys!! And, if it feels like a tacked on ending, that's because it is and I don't want to hear one complaint about it! You only have yourselves to blame.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> D

Prologue

‘I could do anything to you that I wanted right now. With you tied up like this; at my mercy.’ John said, with a smirk.

Sherlock looked up at John from beneath lowered lashes, and said, ‘I’d like to see you try.’

‘Would you? Well...’ John trailed a finger down Sherlock’s naked, lean hip, ‘I aim to please. Let’s see how many different languages I can make you scream ‘OH GOD’ in...’

‘I’d really like to see you try that too...’

 

**********************************

Five Days Earlier

John watched with amusement as Sherlock raced around the flat in a haphazard manner, gathering all of the items that he used when investigating a crime scene. John often wondered how someone who was a certified genius, could be so disorganized.

‘Sherlock, don’t you already have all these items in your coat?’

‘Had. I HAD all of these items in my coat until the last case when all of my supplies were confiscated by that dolt of a policeman.’

‘Ah’, John replied wisely. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have told the DI that ‘I could have a bomb on me right now and you imbeciles wouldn’t know it.’

‘That didn’t justify that strip search, and you know it!’ Sherlock huffed while still collecting items and secreting them about his person.

‘Sherlock, you’d been insulting him and his team all day. Not every DI is as patient with you as Lestrade. In fact, I don’t think there are any other people as patient as Lestrade in general. Not to mention the fact that they did, indeed, find a few questionable items on your person that could theoretically be used in bomb making.’ 

‘The case was about an explosion! Of course I had some bomb related items on me for comparison. But, John, a cavity search too? That really was beyond the pale!’

‘Be reasonable. You didn’t have to comment that the DI couldn’t pull his head out of his ass with both hands.’ John said, chuckling a bit.

Sherlock waved a dismissive hand in John’s general direction, then patted down his coat to make sure that he had everything and that it was in its appropriate place. ‘Too bad he wasn’t as organized in other aspects of his life’, John thought.

‘Right then, shall we go?’ Sherlock asked as he wrapped his scarf around his neck.

’Since I was only waiting for you to finish flitting randomly from place to place, yes, I’m ready. I’ve been ready for at least a quarter of an hour.’

Sherlock stopped, his hand on the doorknob, and looked back at John as if he hadn’t heard that last comment, and said, ‘Coming? We don’t have all day.’ Then he flung the door open and, with a swirl of coat tails, disappeared down the stairwell and out the front door, hand already raised to hail the ubiquitous cab that was somehow always readily available the moment that Sherlock decided that he wanted one.

‘Mycroft and his bloody cameras.’ He thought. ‘Funny how there’s never a cab when I want one though.’

John put on his jacket, shook his head and followed Sherlock down the stairs to the already waiting taxi.

**********************************

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Detective Inspector Lestrade said, leading the way to the corpse.

“I certainly hope that this crime has more going for it than the fact that you’ve ‘never seen anything like it’. If that was the only criteria that you used to bring me onto a case, I might as well have an office next to yours.”

“Heaven forfend. I just might have to kill myself.” Lestrade muttered under his breath. 

John chuckled, watching Sherlock’s back as he continued towards the victim’s body.

Sherlock raised a hand and, without turning said, “I heard that, Lestrade!” 

“Good! You were meant to. You pompous prick.”

“Heard that too!” 

“Just get on with it.” 

“Well?” Lestrade asked as Sherlock crouched over the body.

Gesturing at the recently deceased, Sherlock said, “I’ve seen this before but never in person. It took quite a lot of skill and patience to achieve such intricate rope work.”

“And...?” Lestrade said, moving his finger in a ‘hurry up’ motion. “What does it mean?”

“It means that the victim was likely a willing subject - tied up with their permission - as part of foreplay. He had to willingly remain in that position to allow such a detailed design. Notice that there’s no slack in the rope; that’s hard to do with either an unwilling or unconscious participant.”

“And you know about this, how?”

“I read, Lestrade. You should try it. It will open a whole new world for you.”

“Ass.”

“Seriously, Lestrade. I’m standing right next to you. You’re not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

“Just...get on with it. Does this practice have a name?”

“Shibari” John said before Sherlock could respond, his ears going pink with embarrassment. He looked up to see two sets of eyes staring at him quizzically. 

“What? I, uh, ‘read’ too you know.”


	2. Three Continents Watson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where we find out that John brags a little about his sexual escapades when drunk.

‘What? I, uh, ‘read’ too you know.’

Dead silence. Lestrade and Sherlock both continued to stare at John. 

‘Was...yeah. Lestrade’s mouth was actually hanging open.’ John thought. ‘What the hell?’

‘Why are you both staring at me as if I’ve just done something amazing?’

‘John. As always, you are full of surprises. You amaze me constantly.’ Sherlock said. ‘I had no idea that you knew anything about Shibari. Do enlighten us.’

‘Well, as a surgeon, you learn a lot about the different kinds of knots that can be...’

‘Excuse me, John. You’re not about to tell us that you learned about Shibari whilst at med school, are you?’ Sherlock asked.

‘’Three Continents Watson’...’ Lestrade whispered in what sounded very much like awe.

‘What’s that, Lestrade?’

‘’Three Continents Watson.’ That’s what he was called during his time in the military.’ Lestrade replied.

John, looking non-plussed at this statement, said, ‘And just how would you know that? I don’t remember saying anything about it.’

‘Well, no wonder. You were roaring drunk at the time. You told me about it, oh...must be going on a year ago now. Right proud of yourself too, if memory serves.’ Lestrade said with a smile.

John rolled his eyes to the top of his head, as if searching his brain for a memory of that event. ’Oh...OH! I think that I sort of remember that. Well, shit!’ John replied, a smug grin tilting one side of his mouth. 

‘What? What’s going on? Why haven’t I heard of this before? Is this part of the male bonding experience that goes on at the local pub? How...common...’ Sherlock said, sounding disgusted but also slightly hurt that John hadn’t shared this information with him before.

‘It’s about sex, Sherlock. That’s not the kind of friendship that we have.’

‘Well. Just what kind is it then? I thought that we were ‘best friends’? You can tell me anything! You know that, John!’

‘Yes. I certainly can and do share many things with you. However, I can’t hold your attention for long and sex isn’t the kind of topic where you want a confidants attention to wander. Not to mention you yelling ‘BORED’ at the top of your lungs any time you lose interest - which is more often than not. I made a judgement call on this one. Did you need to know? No. You did not. Would it change our relationship in any way if you knew? No. It would not. Would it help solve a case? Again? No. So there was no reason to talk about it. End of story.’ John said firmly, although not unkindly.

‘Ah HAH!’ Sherlock crowed. ‘That’s where you’re wrong! The bondage? You recognized that it was Shibari. That information is very pertinent to this case, John.’ Sherlock, stuck both hands in his trouser pockets, and rocked back on his heels looking triumphant.

‘Right. Except that you already knew what it was so my recognizing it added absolutely nothing in this instance.’

Sherlock stopped rocking, and froze. As he stared straight ahead seemingly looking at nothing in particular, Lestrade said, ‘What’s he doing now?’

‘Thinking’, John said. 

‘For how long?’

‘You’ve known him longer than I. Haven’t you seen him do this before?’

‘Well, yes’, Lestrade replied, ‘But but you actually live with the madman. It’s been my experience that this could go on for quite some time and I’ve got Anderson up my arse to get back in here and send the body on to Molly. So maybe if you could, I don’t know, shake him a bit? Get him back online or something?’

‘Have YOU ever tried touching him when he’s like this?’ John asked.

‘Well, yeah. Once...’ Lestrade replied, scratching the back of his head and appearing somewhat reluctant to provide any further information. 

‘And? What happened? Did he...’ John was saying when Sherlock suddenly started talking.

‘Well, Glen, I think that you can handle it from here. You have the name of the practice - Shibari - and I’m sure that you can find Google on your computer, somehow. Come along, John. We have places to be...’ Sherlock closed his coat, pulling his gloves from the pockets and putting them on efficiently, shoved past Lestrade. He was already three meters away before John had even finished closing his mouth.

‘I don’t know why I put up with his shite. Boggles the mind.’ Lestrade said, then held up a hand as John appeared to be about to say something.

‘I know. I know. Because he’s bloody brilliant but does it always have to be so painful?’ Lestrade looked down at his shoes in thought. ‘I guess it does. I guess it does.’

‘JOHN! Taxi’s waiting!’ Sherlock yelled from around the building.

‘Fucking taxi? He’s got a taxi already? Here? In the middle of nowhere?’ John gave a quick nod to Lestrade and said ‘Let us know what you find out. Thanks.’ And headed to where Sherlock was impatiently waiting, door held open as he waived John inside ahead of him.

‘What took you so long, John? Greg will never learn how to do his job if you baby him.’

John, after making room in the taxi for Sherlock, asked,‘Did you...did you just call Lestrade, ‘Greg’?’

Sherlock, pausing in the act of pulling the car door closed, gave John a condescending look and said, ‘No. I did not. You obviously misheard.’ And slammed the door.

‘Driver. 221b Baker Street, if you please.’


	3. John has an epiphany.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is home, alone and thinking of Sherlock and Shibari. Things are heating up...

They rode in awkward silence for 20 minutes; John glancing at Sherlock occasionally, waiting for him to say something. Anything. But he remained silent.

The entire drive, John had been dreading Sherlock’s inevitable questions. And he’d been relieved that he’d not been asked any - at first. But the closer they got to Baker Street, the more nervous John became so that by the time they were pulling up to 221b, John could no longer stand the silence.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything about this at all?’ John asked, frustrated.

‘About what?’ Sherlock said, glancing at John and then returning to stare out the window.

‘You know...about the...’ John lowered his voice. ‘Shibari thing. I thought you’d have questions.’

‘Oh. Well, John. I didn’t think that a taxi ride would be the appropriate place for that kind of discussion’

‘Since when have you cared about propriety?’

‘Here we are’ said the taxi driver.

John opened the door and got out, shoulders slumped, looking defeated. Sherlock always did this. If he would have questioned John, then he would have been able to become indignant and not said anything but Sherlock got more information by remaining quiet. He preferred waiting for you to crack just from the stress of expecting to be interrogated at any moment. And yet, even knowing this, John fell for it every time.

John had gotten to the front door, keys out, when he realized that Sherlock wasn’t with him. Turning to see where he might have got to, John saw Sherlock, still sitting in the taxi, about to close the door - leaving himself inside.

‘What are you doing?’ John asked. ‘I thought we were going home.’

‘I never said that ‘we’ were going home, John. I need to obtain more data on the case.’

‘Shouldn’t I be going with you then?’

‘No, John. This is something I’d prefer to do alone.’ Sherlock pulled the door closed and John heard him say to the driver, ‘Soho’, and they were off.

‘Yeah, well. Just try not to get yourself kidnapped! Again!’ John yelled after the taxi. 

As John began to walk up the 17 steps to the flat, he thought, ‘I ought to give Sherlock a little demonstration of just how much I know about Shibari and then have him answer some of MY questions for a change.’

For some reason, that thought seemed to make his cock twitch and John stopped, hand on the doorknob. Looking down at his trousers, he said, ‘Not gay, so just calm the fuck down.’ And opened the door.

Entering the flat, he shut the door behind him quietly, as if not to disturb someone who wasn’t even there. John realized that he’d been holding his breath and took in several gulps of air. He felt...odd. His skin felt as if it was alternately crawling and stretched too tight. He was full of nervous energy and the need to do...what? Something...

John hung up his coat and walked over to his chair, sat down and immediately had to stand up again and adjust himself. Suddenly his trousers were too tight. His pants cutting off his circulation. He smoothed his hand across his zipper and realized that he was aroused. Very aroused. 

‘How the hell hadn’t I noticed THAT?’ he thought.

John had never been with a man. Never even thought of a man in ‘that way’. He had no problem with homosexuality but he knew it wasn’t for him. The idea of touching a man in an intimate way just didn’t do it for him. But, Sherlock? He was different, special in a way that John hadn’t been able to pinpoint yet - it was just a fact. It wasn’t quite androgyny, but something about Sherlock transcended sexuality.

He smoothed his hand down the front of his trousers again, stopping at his now aching cock. He held his hand there, enjoying the warmth seeping from his palm through his trousers. 

Moving down a little further, he held his balls loosely. Just enjoying how they felt. Sliding his hand slowly back up his cock, he pressed a little harder, and gasped. Leaning his head back, he grasped his cock firmly through his trousers and squeezed. His breath stuttered as his surroundings fell away and his entire focus became centered on the hand on his cock.

Untucking his shirt, he slid his hand into his pants and felt the silky heat of his erection. He began stroking himself again, awkwardly. He needed to remove his pants. ‘Probably should do that in the privacy of my own room. I can only imagine what Sherlock would say if he saw me doing this out here in the open.’ His cock pulsed, giving his opinion on the idea of Sherlock catching John out.

He walked to his bedroom with more haste than he realized. Closing and locking the door, he turned and glanced at his bed. It wouldn’t be the first time that Sherlock had just barged in. At least he’d have a little warning. 

He hurriedly shucked off his clothes and lay down on his pleasantly chilly sheets, took himself in his left hand and squeezed, his other hand lightly grazing one of his nipples which instantly became erect causing him to gasp again.

Running his right hand down his torso, he cupped his balls. They were a warm moist weight in his hand. He began stroking his cock slowly. Enjoying the slow tease. He fantasized that it was someone else doing this. Some faceless person who knew how to touch him in exactly the way he liked. 

He continued on with his slow torture, causing his erection to weep pre-come in anticipation of what would happen next. 

‘Whose face should I give this fantom lover?’ He thought, beginning to masturbate in earnest. He was so close, just add someone. Add the final thing that would push him over the edge...

Suddenly, a head of curly, dark hair appeared. A face peered up at him between his thighs. Amazing almond shaped eyes of the most amazing mixture of shades. The color of which changed according to mood. 

The mouth opened and engulfed John’s cock completely. John’s back arched as he came. A name spoken at the height of his orgasm unbidden.

’SHERLOCK!’ He moaned. ‘I love you! God, I love you!’ And then it was over. His body completely relaxed. When his brain began working again, he thought;

‘Good lord! I want to shag Sherlock! Well, that’s an understatement. I want to pin him to this mattress with my cock and fuck him until he comes saying my name the same way that I just said his.’

John reached over and grabbed a shirt that he’d conveniently left on the bed for the express purpose of cleaning up. He didn’t have the energy to do that at the moment. So instead, he just dropped the shirt over the mess on his stomach and lay there, thinking about Sherlock and what this meant.

‘It means that you’re a bloody idiot, is what it means. Why did it have to be Sherlock’, John thought. Sherlock with the high cheekbones and lithe but firmly muscled body. And his voice...

‘I’m in deep shite.’ Was John’s last thought as he dropped off to sleep and dreamed Sherlock and those amazing eyes...


	4. Manipulative Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's been scheming for a way to get John to practice Shibari on him. He figures out what needs to happen. He's a manipulative little fuck.

John’s eyes suddenly snapped open. He didn’t know what had awoken him and he sat up feeling a bit muddled. It had started to rain while he’d been asleep and it pattered rhythmically over the now dark windows creating an isolated feeling.

‘How long have I been asleep?’ He wondered, looking over at the clock on the nightstand. 

’10 pm? Sherlock must be home by now.’ Throwing back the sheets, John head towards the bedroom door.

Just as he was reaching out for the doorknob, he suddenly realized that he was still naked. He gave a disgusted sigh and walked back to his bed, grabbed his pajama bottoms and put them on. 

‘You’re losing it, Watson.’

Pulling a vest from his bureau, he hurriedly pulled it on and headed downstairs.

The flat was now in total darkness and it appeared that Sherlock had yet to return. Still, John called out, ’Sherlock?’ But received no answer.

Heading into the kitchen to make some tea, John noticed that a note had been taped to the kettle.

‘I came upstairs when you didn’t answer my call when I got in. You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn’t want to wake you. However, I did remove the shirt that was covering your penis because it appeared to be stiffening up. The shirt, not your penis. I threw your shirt in the wash and pulled the sheet over you. You might want to jump in the shower once you’re awake. Just a suggestion. SH’

John, after crunching the note and throwing it on the floor, put both hands on the counter and hung his head. 

‘Of course he’d just barge in, it’s what he does. Wait! I’d locked the door! He had to pick the lock to get in!’ John, scrubbing one hand over his face, wondered how he could have slept through all of that. He was normally a light sleeper. 

‘He’s like a damned cat!’ John thought. Suddenly appearing with no warning, ready to pounce. And then he writes all that on a note but never mentions one word about where he’s gone or what he’s doing. I can’t believe that I love him!’ John froze.

‘I love him? What the hell? That’s just something you say when coming. It doesn’t mean anything.’ John looked down at cock which seemed to showing interest in this line of thought. 

‘Did I ask for your opinion?’

‘Maybe this is just a nightmare.’ He reached down and pinched his cock. ‘OW! God dammit! Not a dream. Fuck!’ 

‘Still, it could be a particularly vivid dream. I’ll just sleep it off and start over tomorrow.’

Turning around and with little hope, he glumly trudged back upstairs to his room, tea forgotten. 

 

When John came down to make tea the next morning, Sherlock was sat at the kitchen table, staring into his microscope.

Without moving his head, Sherlock glanced up at John and said ‘Good morning, John.’ and then resumed looking at, well, whatever it was that Sherlock looked at on those slides.

‘Good morning, Sherlock. I didn’t hear you come in last night,’ John said as he went over to the stove and put the kettle on.

Without even glancing up this time, Sherlock said, ’No. You didn’t.’ And had continued on with what he was doing. Never mentioning removing John’s shirt or covering him. It was if it’d never happened, which suited John just fine.

Four days had passed since then and Sherlock had yet to mention a thing about breaking into John’s room or anything else, and John wasn’t about to ask so he just let it go and things fell into an easy, if somewhat suspenseful, silence. 

John assumed that Sherlock was still working on the Shibari case but Sherlock hadn’t mentioned it since that first day and he’d been back and forth to the Yard and to the Morgue to see Molly and the corpse, several times since. 

Sherlock had neither requested John’s attendance nor informed him of what was going on and just as John was getting ready to give in and ask, Sherlock startled him by speaking first.

‘John,’ Sherlock said.

‘Yes, Sherlock?’

‘I’ve been curious about your experience with Shibari? How did you learn about it, really? Have you only read about it? Have you any personal experience with it yourself? Either as the rigger or the model?’

With the exception of his fingers tapping rhythmically on the blank piece of paper on the table in front of him, Sherlock had stopped what he was doing and was now giving John his undivided attention.

‘Well,’ John stood with one hand on his hip and the other on the back of his head, thinking. ‘That was a long time ago, Sherlock and I don’t really remember...’

‘John,’ Sherlock interrupted. ‘You needn’t feel embarrassed by whatever deviant practices you saw whilst in Her Majesty’s Service. It’s not like I’m accusing you of being able to tie those knots yourself. It’s a very complicated...’

‘First of all, Shibari isn’t a deviant behavior. It’s an art form involving the design and construction of very intricate patterns. Not everyone is able to learn how to do it, much less do it well. ’

‘Ah,’ Sherlock interrupted again. ‘I know it’s not deviant and I’m well aware of its artistic merits, you just seemed as if you were ashamed...’

‘Well, I’m not ashamed!’ John had worked himself up into a small fury by now. ’I just don’t feel a need to discuss it with you.’

‘I was only curious, John. If you don’t understand how it’s done, that’s no fault of yours. I’d assumed that it was outside of your skillset anyhow. I’m just going to get back to my experiment now...’ Sherlock turned back to his microscope, surreptitiously watching John out of the corner of one eye.

‘When did I say that I didn’t know how to...’ John started, looking down with an angry frown, both hands clenched into fists at his side.

‘John. John. Relax. You don’t have anything to prove to me.’ Sherlock said, with a slight twitch of his lips. Sometimes it was almost too easy to manipulate John into doing what he wanted.

‘Well, apparently I do! Why would me knowing about Shibari be helpful with this case?’ 

‘Naturally, I could research it but it would be better to have an expert on hand to answer questions and to provide a demonstration, perhaps.’ Sherlock had planted the seed and watered it. Time to see if it grew roots.

‘Demonstration? On what? Like, a dummy or something?’ John asked.

‘Or something...’ Sherlock replied and resumed tapping his fingers on the paper in front of him.

‘Why do you keep doing that?’

‘Doing what?’ Tap. Tap. Tap.

‘You’ve been fiddling with that paper for the past 20 minutes now. Why?’

‘Oh.’ Sherlock glanced down at the paper, feigning surprise. ‘You mean this?’ And turned the paper face up so that John could see that it was a photograph of the victim with a closeup of the Shibari patterns.

John walked to the table reluctantly and Sherlock slid the paper over towards him.

Standing up, Sherlock stood next to John and they both studied the image in silence for a few minutes.

‘So you can see why I’d like the help of an expert, can’t you, John?’ Sherlock placed him hand on John’s forearm and looked up at him with, what he hoped, was an earnest expression.

‘I don’t know how I can help you more than a simple search of the internet would. You can find tutorials about Shibari just about anywhere.’

‘Yes, but I don’t know anyone who can actually recreate those patterns, tie those knots. And I certainly wouldn’t trust a stranger to demonstrate them on my person which brings me back to you.’

John looked up and just stared at Sherlock, mouth agape.

‘Are...are you asking me to tie you up to recreate the Shibari pattern on this corpse?’ John swallowed audibly.


	5. Sherlock Gets His Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock can be VERY convincing and John is very weak where Sherlock's concerned. They both want the same thing. They just don't think that the other one knows it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter but I'll be posting a couple more shortly so you won't have to wait for long.

‘Yes, John. So, will you help me?’

‘I...guess. If it’s for science.’ John said hesitantly.

‘Awesome!’ Sherlock clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. John thought he looked a little bit sinister in that moment. Then he turned and rushed to his room, with rather more exuberance than John thought Shibari corpse tying warranted.

’Sherlock!’ John yelled, watching Sherlock head towards his bedroom. Where are you going?!’ 

‘To get the supplies! Molly gave me a list of what was used and recommended a fascinating place in Soho. I think it was called the Harmony Store. It was very educational and the clerk was very helpful in directing me to the correct items needed to replicate the crime scene.’

‘But...weren’t you in Soho a few days ago? How could Molly have already give you a list?’ 

‘John, it’s not as if there’s a limited amount visits one can make to Soho before you’re cut off. Honestly.’ And continued on to his bedroom.

John could hear Sherlock moving things around until finally emerging with a large plastic bag with honest to god handles on it.

‘Everything we need is right here.’ Sherlock said, holding up the bag and patting it on the side.

‘How do I fall for this every time?’ John muttered.

‘I don’t know but you definitely made me work for it this time.’ Sherlock said.

‘So, how do you want me?’ Sherlock asked? ‘Here or in the bedroom?’

‘Now? You want to do this now?’ John asked.

‘No time like the present. And I’ve also learned not to let you think for too long once you’ve made a decision. Can’t have you changing your mind.’ Sherlock lowered the bag to his side.

‘You seem a little too excited about this, Sherlock.’

‘It’s for science, John. Science! And I’m always excited to learn something new! I’ll start getting undressed in the bedroom and meet you in there.’ Sherlock turned to leave.

‘Wait! Undressed? Why undressed?’ John squeaked out.

‘The man was nude, John. I need to recreate the scene as closely as possible.’ Sherlock said, patronizingly.

‘At least leave your pants on, Sherlock. Please?’

‘No worries. I’d already planned on it.’ Then Sherlock continued his unusually exuberant dash to his bedroom.

‘This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.’ John thought as he started shaking a bit. ‘I’m about to play BDSM with Sherlock Holmes.’ John looked up at the ceiling. ‘God help me, I think I might enjoy this and I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. Get hold of yourself, Watson!’

‘John! I’m ready! I’ve undressed and am lying on the bed waiting for you. If you could hurry up, I’d appreciate it. It’s a bit drafty in here.’

‘Sherlock’s in his bed, waiting for me to tie him up.’ John thought. ‘Wait! Sherlock’s in his bed, waiting for ME TO TIE HIM UP!’ John began heading towards the bedroom and for the first time that night, John smiled.


	6. Sherlock's A Bit Of A Control Freak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get this party started!

John had only walked a few paces before stopping himself. He knew that Sherlock couldn’t be trusted. There was always something that turned out to be different than what he’d been assured of originally. Better safe than sorry.

‘Are you wearing pants?!’ He called. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous, John! Of course I am! Now get in here and tie me up!’

John began hurrying to the bedroom. ‘That won’t do. Wouldn’t want to look too eager.’ He thought and purposely slowed down.

As promised, Sherlock lay spread out on the bed, wearing black pants. Black Spandex pants. Very tight, very revealing, black Spandex pants.

‘Sherlock? Don’t you have a less revealing pair of pants that you could wear?’ John asked awkwardly. His cock, however, was telling him to ‘SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! DO NOT COCKBLOCK ME ON THIS, WATSON! LET SHERLOCK WEAR WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANTS. IT’S FINE!’

‘No, John. The corpse was naked, as you know, but I expected you to request that I at least wear pants so I bought a pair while I was at the Harmony Store.’

‘Why couldn’t you just wear your own pants.’ John asked nervously as he finally stepped into the bedroom.

‘Because I don’t have any pants that are open in the back, obviously.’ Sherlock was getting impatient now.

‘Open in the back? What? Why would you need pants that were open in the back?’ John was afraid that he might already know the answer to that one.

‘When Molly performed the autopsy, she discovered that the victim had a dildo lodged in his rectum. I didn’t want to destroy my own pants recreating the scene so I just bought these.’ And then Sherlock turned over to display pants that were not only sheer in the back but were open from waistband to crotch, exposing the cleft of his buttocks.

‘Wow! Oh, wow! Just...wow.’ John thought. ‘You’re a doctor, John. Act like one! Do NOT have these kinds of thoughts about a patient, much less, your flatmate!’ And to his penis, he said, ‘Down, boy! This is only a drill.’

Rolling onto his back again, Sherlock said, ‘Everything you need is on the nightstand.’ Gesturing regally to the left.

At first glance, the nightstand seemed to be overflowing with rope but then John started to pick out the details.

Lube. Dildos; in graduated sizes. Small to what seemed excessively large. To John, at least. There was also an abundant supply of red sisal rope and a ball gag. 

John’s knees gave out and he sat with a thud in the chair next to the table.

 

‘You want me to use,’ John gestured to the table. ‘ALL of those things? On you?’

Sherlock had turned over again and propped himself on his elbows, in a semi-reclining position against the pillows.

‘What part of ‘recreate the crime scene’ was unclear, John?’

‘I...I just need to minute to take this all in...’

‘That’s fine. In the meantime, I’ve made you a step by step list of how to proceed with the experiment. It’s very important that you follow the steps in the order in which I’ve listed them. We’re trying to be as accurate as possible.’ 

John took the paper offered to him by Sherlock.

’1. Duplicate pattern of ropes as closely as possible, using the attached image as a guide.’

John flipped the paper up and sure enough, there was another copy of the victim, face down this time. The bindings clearly visible.

‘2. Put on surgical gloves.’ 

‘Surgical gloves? Why?’ John asked.

‘You’re a doctor. I thought that you’d be more comfortable treating this as if I were a patient.’ Sherlock said.

‘A patient whom I’m tying up? Not much call for that at the clinic.’

‘Don’t be dull, John. I was just thinking of you and trying to keep this as professional as possible.’

‘Professional Shibari doctor?’ John’s cock was, if possible, even more interested than before.

‘3. Open lube and begin...’

John dropped the paper to his lap and looked at Sherlock.

‘All of it? You want me to do all of it?’ John just had to make sure that this was real.

‘God. Yes! And for the last time: ALL of it! Now, if you don’t mind, could we get started?’ Sherlock slid his elbows out and fell back on the bed amidst a dramatic puff of bedding.

‘Well. Ok.’ John started getting undressed.

‘John. What are you doing?’

 

‘Taking my clothes off. Shibari is a hot business, not to mention that sisal rope sheds and I’ll never get it out of my clothes. And then there’s the lube. Assuming that you want me to prepare you to handle the largest dildo...’

‘It’s on the list, John, please read it.’

‘Gradually working up from the three smaller ones so that it doesn’t cause any damage when we get to the, ah...rather large one. It’s likely to get a bit messy.’ 

John was down to his pants now.

‘I must insist on changing one thing.’

‘One thing? Why? What’s wrong with the current order?’ Sherlock asked, seemingly a bit insulted.

‘Lube first. Then dildos. THEN rope.’ John began putting on the surgical gloves.

‘Why in that order?’ Sherlock asked, honestly curious.

‘Because, going by this picture, your anus won’t be as easily accessible once I’ve finished binding you. That means that the insertion was likely done first.’

‘Oh.’ Sherlock said in a small voice.

‘Are you sure? Last chance.’

‘Yes. I’m sure.’ Sherlock quickly added, ‘And try to duplicate everything as closely as possible. Obviously, you’ll adjust for any assumptions that I might have made, however unlikely, in error. You’re the expert, after all.’

‘Yes. I am. Shall we proceed?’

Sherlock nodded tersely.

‘But first, you need to pick a safe word.’


	7. In Which EVERYONE Is Cockblocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, they're trying to get the party started anyway.

’A safe word? Why.’ 

‘I’m the expert, remember? And I’m absolutely positive that the victim had a safe word.’

‘Yes. Well. It didn’t seem to have done him much good now, did it?’ Sherlock huffed.

‘Safe word, Sherlock.’

‘How would I be able to use a safe word with a ball gag in my mouth, John. Are you even taking this seriously?’ 

Sherlock’s nervousness now seemed to be overridden by annoyance.

‘Good point.’ John thought a minute. ‘Ok. We’ll just go with the traffic light system. Green means ‘everything is fine’, Yellow means ‘give me a minute’, and Red means...’

‘Yes. Yes. Red means ’Stop’. I’m not a moron, John, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop treating me as if I were.’

‘And, correct me if I’m wrong, John,’ Sherlock continued, ‘but those are still words. Ball gag, remember?’ Sherlock was getting antsy again. Time to go to work.

‘Just grunt to get my attention...’ John began.

‘Grunt?’ You want me to grunt? That’s not very dignified, John.’

‘Just grunt,’ John continued, ‘And I’ll call out the colors and you nod when you hear the one you want. Ok?’

‘Fine.’ 

John finished putting on his surgical gloves, picked up the lube, and generously coated his index finger.

‘On your stomach, please.’ John made a twirling motion with said index finger.

‘What about the dildos? I thought that we were starting with those.’ Sherlock asked.

‘We’re not starting with those because,’ John replied patiently, ‘you have to be dilated digitally before I can just start inserting objects into your rectum. Judging by your questions, I’m assuming that this is the first time that you’ve done anything like this?’ John asked, knowing full well that Sherlock had too much pride to admit to any such thing.

‘I...was only making sure that you knew what you were doing. I’m no novice, John. Proceed.’

John made the twirling motion with his index finger again.

‘Over you go.’

Sherlock obediently rolled over onto his stomach again, holding his head up so that he could see John clearly while he was talking to him.

‘Ok. Here’s what you need to do first...’ Sherlock said.

‘My mistake.’ John stripped off the lubed up glove and threw it in the bin. ‘Change of plans,’ he said going to the table and grabbing something from it. ‘Ball gag first.’ By the time Sherlock realized what John was up to, he’d already inserted and fastened the gag. Possibly a little tighter than he needed to, if Sherlock’s glare was anything to go by.

‘That’s better.’ John said. ‘Now. Head down. No more noise unless you need to implement the traffic light system.

Sherlock threw his head down on the pillows like a child having a tantrum.

‘Now. Now. None of that. Turn your head the other way. I’d prefer not to have you staring at me while I’m doing this. You can save your complaints until we’re done.’

Sherlock huffed through the ball gag but obligingly turned his head facing away from John.

‘Good to see we’re in agreement.’ John grabbed another glove, put it on and began lubing up his index finger again.

As John leaned over and place a hand on one plump cheek, Sherlock felt a little thrill of excitement running through him. ‘I can’t believe that this is really happening,’ he thought excitedly. ‘And with a lot less effort than I thought would be needed.’ One thing was certain; he wouldn’t be doing anymore turning over onto his back for awhile. 

‘I’m just going to open you up a bit and then insert my finger into your anus. Is everything Green?’ Sherlock nodded his head.

‘Ok. Here we go.’ And using his index finger and thumb, John gently spread Sherlocks cheeks and exposed his tightly furled anus.

‘Deep breath.’ John’s cock chose this moment to make a dramatic appearance, causing an impressive tent in his pants.

‘Not now, dammit!’ John thought.

Sherlock made a questioning sound.

‘Nothing. Nothing.’ Stop thinking out loud, dammit!!

‘Ok. Deep breath.’ As John began to press oh so gently against Sherlock’s anus, a text alert sounded on Sherlock’s phone.

Sherlock turned to look at John, head raised while grunting for attention.

‘It’s ok. Just ignore it.’ John said. He and his cock were impatient to get this show on the road. Too much foreplay. At this rate, he’d come before he’d inserted a finger, much less an incredibly large dildo, into Sherlock.

‘Head back down. Ok. Deep breath.’ As John began to press oh so gently against Sherlock’s anus, another text alert sounded on Sherlock’s phone.

John stood up. ’God dammit! Really?’ 

Sherlock turned his head and began grunting in earnest.

John stopped and looked at him. 

‘Traffic light?’ John asked.

Sherlock nodded his head rapidly.

‘Let me guess. ‘Red’. Right? You want me to pick up those texts?’

Another nod of the head.

‘If you’d like to use the phone, we can stop right now and do this another time. Maybe...’ John let the implied threat of there never being another time, hang in the air for a second.

Sherlock gave an exasperated grunt and turned his head to the side, then lifted it up and slammed it down in the pillows again.

‘Now. Now. We’re all adults here. Let’s behave like it.’

John, applying more lube said, ‘Ok. Let’s try this again. Deep breath...’


	8. Finger Fucking Sherlock Holmes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock needs to be prepared for penetration and John's just the man to do it.

‘Are you ready?’ John asked, right hand gripping Sherlock’s buttocks again, index finger and thumb gently spreading his cheeks.

Sherlock turned his head to face John and gave him a look that somehow conveyed his opinion that John was a moron.

‘Ok. Ok. Turn your head. Starting. For real this time. Short of an actual emergency, I’m not stopping unless you give me the red light.’

Sherlock turned his head facing the other way again, but not before he rolled his eyes at John.

‘You’re not in a position to piss me off right now, Sherlock...’ John thought.

‘Deep breath.’

Sherlock made a noise of exasperation. John ignored it.

‘Since this is an experiment, I’m going to talk you through each step before I do it so that you aren’t surprised. I’m now going to slowly insert my index finger into your rectum. There might be some discomfort but I’ll give you time to adjust before the next step.’

And, as promised, John began to slowly penetrate Sherlock with his index finger. He’d only made it to the second knuckle when he felt Sherlock tense up. 

He stopped what he was doing - leaving his finger in place - and asked, ‘Everything ok, Sherlock? Red?’ Sherlock shook his head ’No’. ‘Yellow?’ A brief nod.

‘Ok. Just let me know when you’re ready.’ John stood there, bent over Sherlock, one hand on his ass, and the other paused, one finger inside, waiting for the signal to proceed.

Several seconds passed by and John’s back was beginning to hurt and the fingers on his left hand began to cramp.

‘Green?’ Please be green! John thought.

Sherlock gave a terse nod and John gradually inserted his finger to the third knuckle and waited for Sherlock to adjust.

’Still ok?’ John asked.

Another brief nod and John slowly withdrew his finger causing Sherlock to shudder.

‘The nerves in the anus are very sensitive, withdrawal often being more pleasant than insertion.’ John began to pump his index finger slowly, in and out.

‘This will loosen you up enough to accept a second finger. Once we’re at a third finger, I’ll start inserting the smallest dildo. Don’t worry. I won’t rush.’ Fucking A right, I won’t! John thought.

John might have spent a little more time than necessary, finger-fucking Sherlock but his reactions on withdrawal were just too hot to move on.

It was around the end of fucking Sherlock with a third finger that John realized that there wasn’t a shred of professionalism left. He’d stopped admonishing himself about the impropriety a getting turned on by what he was doing half way through the second finger. By the time he’d slid the third one in, he just thought, ‘Bollocks to this. Sherlock wants to play, then we’re going to play. I’ll deal with my conscience later.’  
And, with a clear - perhaps temporarily - conscience, John began the process of wrecking Sherlock Holmes.

At some point, John had given up bending over Sherlock and was now kneeling between his spread legs. Legs which Sherlock had opened eagerly when John tapped first one, then the other inner thigh, indicating what he wanted.

‘Experiment my ass.’ John thought, withdrawing his fingers from Sherlock.

‘Everything still green?’ 

At Sherlock’s nod, John said, ‘Ok. Moving onto the smallest dildo now. I think that you’re ready but it still might not be that pleasant at first. Let me know if you need me to stop.’

John leaned over towards the nightstand, picked up the smallest dildo and applied a generous amount of lube to it. 

‘Ok. Deep breath.’ God, he was starting to sound like a broken record.

John pressed the tip of the dildo against Sherlock’s anus and began the slow, sensuous, yes, sensuous, act of insertion. John was actively trying to give Sherlock a hard-on. Assuming that he didn’t already have one. And, judging by the slight lift of his hips on each withdrawal, he was pretty sure that Sherlock could hammer nails with his cock by now.

‘You are having WAY too much fun, Watson.’ He thought.

Twenty minutes had passed before John felt that Sherlock was capable of handling the largest dildo. They were both breathing heavily by then although it was all very civil; neither one acknowledging that they were incredibly turned on. The first time that Sherlock had moaned, they’d also given up all pretense of this being an experiment. 

Once the final dildo had been firmly seated, ‘I’ll just give it a little twist first.’ John thought. He patted Sherlock on the ass and said, ‘Let me remove these gloves and wash up before I start doing anything with the rope.’

John stood up, stretched, and removed his gloves with a snap loud enough for Sherlock to hear. He twitched and moaned in response. John smiled and headed into the washroom.

John’s pants had a large wet spot where pre-come had been leaking into them. His erection, which had started during the first finger was now hard; painfully so.

John gave himself a quick squeeze over his pants and thought, ‘Soon. Soon.’

Washing his hands and drying them on a nearby towel, John headed back to the bedroom where he wasn’t surprised to see Sherlock unabashedly humping the mattress. He just stood in the doorway, admiring the view for a minute.

The sheer pants, split down the middle, exposing Sherlock’s buttocks, the dildo clearly visible, sent a strong wave of desire coursing straight to John’s groin. He squeezed his cock again.

‘Sherlock, I’m going to remove my pants. I accidentally splashed water on them when I was in the loo and they’re uncomfortable. Is that alright with you?’

Sherlock had frozen as soon as he’d heard his name mentioned. He didn’t turn to face John but he was clearly nodding his head.

‘Ah. Good. Thanks.’ As he rolled his pants down, he winced. ‘Probably should have unstuck the wet spot from my cock before I did that. Dammit!’ 

Sherlock lifted his head in question.

‘No. No. I’m fine. Minor technical difficulty.’ John had one foot still in his pants and kicked it up with a flourish, catching it in his waiting hand. Balling them up, he threw them across the room where they landed neatly in the wash. He raised his arms, whispering, ‘And the crowd goes wild!’ Before heading back to Sherlock who seemed to be losing the battle against subtle humping and loud moans had started.

‘Oh god.’ John grabbed his cock again. He was about to explode. This had to end soon. ‘Time to wrap this up.’ Chuckling at his unintentional double entendre.

Walking quickly back to the bed, grabbing the rope on his way, he asked Sherlock to put his hands behind his back. And, with the occasional glance at the picture, began the painstaking process of recreating the pattern.

John had stopped providing commentary long ago. Neither one of them had seemed to notice.


	9. Shibari

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shibari is a little more intense than Sherlock had imagined.

Just as John had finished the final knot, tying Sherlock’s wrists to his ankles, heels pressed against his ass, a text alert sounded again.

Sherlock let out his breath in a huff and looked at John.

‘Yes. Fine. I’ll get it.’

John picked up the phone and began scrolling through the texts, reading them aloud.

‘’You were right. There was semen in his rectum. No sign of abuse anywhere on the body. It appears that the, um...dildo was inserted after intercourse, probably...to...um...keep the semen inside. I’ll let you know if I find anything else. Molly’’

‘Oh.’ John said slowly. ‘That message is from four days ago. Four days ago...’ John repeated, thinking.

‘Wasn’t that the day that the body was found? The day that you went to Soho?’ John looked up at Sherlock with a puzzled frown. ’The same day that you invaded my room, and oh so helpfully, removed the shirt covering my cock?’

Sherlock had put his head back down and turned away from John.

‘I don’t need you to look at me, Sherlock. I’m pretty sure I’ve figured it out. Let’s just go through the rest of the texts anyhow, shall we?’

‘Oh! The others are from Lestrade. I wonder what he has to say.’ John began reading aloud again.

‘’We picked up the boyfriend this afternoon. Apparently they had been snorting coke when the victim suddenly began having a seizure. The boyfriend panicked, couldn’t get the knots undone, and left once he realized that the victim was dead. He’s been hiding out at his parents. I don’t know how you figured that out so fast. I’m just glad to file this as an accidental death. A lot less paperwork than documenting a murder. Although the boyfriend was arrested for fleeing the scene, I doubt that this will ever go to trial. Rich parents on both sides. No one wants to talk about it and no one wants it in the news. Lestrade’’

‘These last two are from Lestrade as well. This should be good.’ John glanced over at Sherlock who, at this point, had hidden his head beneath the pillows.

‘’I would have rather told you all this on the phone instead of typing a novel but you’ve been unreachable. In any event, thank you for your help, as usual. Lestrade’’

‘’P.S. Did you take the rope from the morgue? Molly’s been looking for it. Please return it after you’re done doing...whatever it is that you’re doing with it. Even though it wasn’t murder, it’s still evidence. Lestrade.’’ 

‘The ropes that I used to tie you up are the ones that were used on the victim? Couldn’t spring for new ropes? Let me guess, ‘John, I needed to create the crime scene as closely as possible.’, right?’

John threw Sherlock’s phone in the wash and then exited the room leaving Sherlock to wonder if he’d be coming back anytime soon. The dildo and raging hard on had become massively uncomfortable at least 30 minutes ago.

He also wasn’t enjoying the rope as much as he’d thought he would. The strain on his shoulders and hips was causing a burning sensation in his muscles. He thought that his limbs might actually have gone to sleep. 

Maybe he should have just told John how he felt instead of going through with this charade. There was no way that this would end well. This was turning into a...what did the Americans call it? Ah. A huge cluster fuck. Crude but apt.

Now it was just a game of wait and see...


	10. And The Truth Shall Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock share a mutual lust for each other.

Sherlock had begun rocking back and forth, trying to get his limbs closer together in the hope of creating enough slack in the rope to begin freeing himself. John was really quite talented in the art of Shibari. There was no slack to be had, but he wouldn’t give up and kept rocking, gradually moving closer to the edge of the bed without realizing it.

John was pacing back and forth, trying to decide whether or not he should be angry at Sherlock for tricking him. But...had Sherlock really tricked him? John clearly wanted Sherlock and Sherlock clearly wanted him just as much. 

Would they have gotten together without this silly game? Maybe, but it doubtless wouldn’t have been as much fun as this had been.

‘Wait.’ John thought. ‘I still have a tied up and silenced Sherlock at my mercy. I definitely know he’s interested...’ And here, John looked down at his swollen cock. ‘Pretty sure that he knows that I’m interested too. And I doubt it took long to figure it out.’

John walked into the kitchen and opened the cabinet where he kept his emergency medical kit. He hoped that he’d refilled it - they ran through a lot of bandages, particularly when Sherlock was ‘experimenting’.

As he was picking up the bag, he heard a heavy thud from the bedroom. He rushed into the room and stared at the bed. It was empty.

‘Sherlock?’ John called tentatively.

An urgent grunting sound came from the other side of the bed.

Putting the bag down, he rushed to find out how badly Sherlock had damaged himself. 

More grunting. Sherlock seemed fine. Looking a bit like a pissed off fly caught in a web, he’d landed sideways on some blankets that he’d obviously shoved off the bed earlier. 

‘Well, well, well. Look what we have here.’ This time, there was a barrage of grunting that sounded like cursing. 

John admired the view a little longer then reached down and grabbed the rope tying Sherlock’s ankles to his arms, lifted him like a parcel, placing him relatively gently, face down on the bed.

‘I’m going to take that gag out but you can stop with the lies. It’ll only make me cross.’

John reached over and with the flick of a finger, popped the catch loose on the ball gag.

‘Ew. Drool. Not very attractive, Sherlock.’

‘John. Untie me and we’ll talk about this like civilized men.’

‘See, here’s the thing, Sherlock. I know you. You’ll say whatever it takes to get loose and then the real you will come out and it’ll be a full on argument with silly points that will only anger me and I don’t want to fight. Can you promise that you’ll behave?’

‘Behave?! I’m not a child, John!’

John gave Sherlock a smokey look as he started at his toes until he reached that beautiful face.

‘Oh, I can see that you’re not a child.’

Sherlock blushed.

‘But you definitely act like one.’ He finished.

‘John! Untie me now!’ Sherlock demanded.

‘Or what? You’ll use harsh language on me? Drool on me? Bounce your way over here and bite me? I don’t think so.’

Sherlock gave a defeated sigh and relaxed his muscles.

‘Fine. You win. Just let me go and we’ll forget this ever happened.’

‘What if I don’t want to forget? I mean, you went through a lot to make this happen. It’d be a shame to waste such an elaborate setup, wouldn’t it?’

Sherlock shivered a bit and replied, ‘What did you have in mind, John?’

John picked up his medical bag and sat it and himself, on the bed next to Sherlock.

‘Well...’ John said, patting the bag like an old friend.

‘I can think of a few things...’ He said with a lascivious smirk.

‘Can one of those things be pulling this dildo out of me? It’s quite literally a pain my ass.’

John laughed. ‘Sure,’ he said. Reaching over, he slowly extracted the dildo causing Sherlock to shiver once again.

Throwing the dildo over his shoulder where it landed with pinpoint accuracy, in the wash, he said, ‘Better?’

‘Much. If you could take these ropes off of me, I’d feel even better.’

‘See. Here’s the thing. I know that you’re uncomfortable but I don’t feel like you’ve earned your freedom yet.’ John ran a finger under one of the taught ropes and snapped it like a rubber band.

‘Ow!’

‘Oh. I’m sorry. Did that hurt?’

‘You know damned well it did.’

John began opening his medical bag.

‘What are you doing with that?’ Sherlock asked nervously. ‘You don’t need to tie me up, it’s not like I could do anything anyhow. My arms and legs are asleep. You can have your way with me without these ropes.’ 

‘Now, you see, that’s true, but...’ And pulling his hand back out of the bag, Sherlock noticed that John had blunted bandage scissors in his hand. He began opening and closing the scissors with a rapid ‘snip snip’ sound. 

‘I have something else in mind first. You’ll be fine for just awhile longer.’ John got onto his knees on the bed and leaned over Sherlock.

‘Lestrade’s going to be mad if you cut his rope.’ Sherlock said half heartedly.

‘Oh. I don’t plan on cutting the rope.’

‘What’s the point of bringing them out then?’

John slid the tip of the scissors under one side of Sherlocks black Spandex pants.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ *snip snip snip* The pants were now open on one side.

‘Just lay there and let me work.’ *snip snip snip* Now both sides of the pants were completely open.

John reached between Sherlock’s thighs and slowly slid the pants out from under him.

‘There. Isn’t that better?’

Sherlock’s heart was beating fast, his cock, which had lost its rock-like stiffness when John had begun reading the texts, suddenly began to perk up causing Sherlock to thrust his hips into the bed again. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

‘Hey! Don’t waste that. I have plans.’ John, using the ‘handle’ to pull Sherlock onto his side - and they were going to have a talk about that after...well, after. Sherlock didn’t appreciate being thrown around like he had absolutely no say in the matter. He didn’t, but that was besides the point!

‘I could do anything to you that I wanted right now. With you tied up like this; at my mercy.’ John said, with a smirk.

Sherlock looked up at John from beneath lowered lashes, and said, ‘I’d like to see you try.’

‘Would you? Well...’ John trailed a finger down Sherlock’s naked, lean hip, ‘I aim to please. Let’s see how many different languages I can make you scream ‘OH GOD’ in...’

‘I’d really like to see you try that too...’

John reached over with the scissors and cut the ‘handle’ holding Sherlock’s arms and legs together. 

‘Lestrade’s not going to be happy.’ Sherlock said, half-heartedly.

‘We’ll just have to pick up a new one from the Harmony Store. He’ll never know the difference.’ *snip snip snip* and Sherlock gave a relieved sigh as his legs were finally cut loose.

‘Better?’ John asked.

‘I’ll let you know, once the pins and needles have gone.’ Sherlock’s arms were still tied behind his back. He struggled to release himself thinking that once the rope had been cut, the knots would be loose.

’Shibari doesn’t work that way. The knots around your forearms are a lot more intricate than the ones that I just cut from your legs so you might as well quit struggling.’ John placed the scissors on the table while grabbing the lube on the way back to Sherlock’s side.

‘What are you going to do now?’ Sherlock asked, nervous but excited at the same time. Especially since he’d just noticed that John also had a massive erection.

John began applying lube to his cock. ‘The experiment isn’t over. We haven’t duplicated everything yet.’ Looking at Sherlock as he stroked himself, he smiled smugly.

‘Of course, it’s over. There’s nothing left. There’s no coke and I’m fairly certain that my heart isn’t going to give out...yet.’ Sherlock was opening and closing his legs, trying to get the feeling back into them.

John reached over and stopped Sherlock’s thighs from moving.

‘And you pride yourself on your memory. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. ’ John said.

‘John...you just got lube on my thigh.’

’That’s just the beginning. Think...what are you forgetting...?’

Sherlock lay still and concentrated. It seemed like five minutes had gone by but in reality, was probably more like five seconds, when John could see the realization dawn on his face.

‘Well?’ John asked.

‘The victim had semen in his rectum.’ Sherlock said with a quick intake of breath.

‘That’s right and we’d be remiss in our duties if we didn’t follow this to its sordid conclusion.’ John got between Sherlock’s legs, reaching under him and pulling Sherlock’s hips flush to his cock. He slid between Sherlock’s cheeks for a few frustrating - for Sherlock - moments, and then placed the head of his cock at Sherlock’s entrance.

‘Ready?’ John said as he began to slip into that well prepared passage.

‘Green, John. For the love of god, GREEN!’

‘Ok. Deep breath...’


	11. Round One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Sherlock get down to it!

John had fantasized about this moment for so long and now that it was finally happening, he was afraid that he’d come before he’d even made it to penetration. And then it would be over, and John wasn’t planning on it being over for quite some time. 

‘John, fuck me, please! I don’t think that I can wait much longer! I want you inside me, NOW!’ John groaned. God, that voice! He thought that Sherlock could make him come just by talking to him. ‘Maybe we’ll try that next,’ he thought. 

John slid his cock down Sherlock’s crack, using his left hand to place the head directly against Sherlock’s hole. With his right hand, he grasped Sherlock’s sharply defined hip, slowly pushing forward until the crown had passed through that still tight ring of muscle. 

John held himself still for a few seconds, breathing heavily. He didn’t want to just ram it home; he wanted to make sure that Sherlock's first time was something special. That, and he didn’t want to come as soon as he was in like a teenager having his first go.

Letting go of his cock, he put his left hand on Sherlock’s other hip and began slowly pulling him back onto his cock. John didn’t trust himself to penetrate him slowly enough on his own. He’d never been so excited in his life. 

Although the gradual slide was agonizing, it was unbelievably hot too. He occasionally had to hold Sherlock still. He kept moving backwards onto John’s cock faster than was wise and it became a kind of reverse tug of war between them. Sherlock trying to force himself backwards, John holding Sherlock’s hips still until he finally gave up and stopped.

As soon as John was fully seated, his balls pressing against Sherlock’s, they both groaned simultaneously surprising a chuckle out of John.

John pulled Sherlock’s hips to his own even tighter; there were likely to be bruises on those gorgeous hips come morning. Taking a moment to enjoy just how deeply he had penetrated Sherlock, he held himself still. Truth be told, he was about to lose it again and needed a moment. 

‘You’d think that you’d never been laid before, Watson!’ John thought.

He began fucking Sherlock, barely withdrawing before easing back in. Providing subtle, but constant pressure across Sherlock’s prostate. 

God, but he was so soft and warm inside. His cock surrounded by pulsing heat of Sherlock’s body almost unmanned him again.

Leaning over to smooth his hand over Sherlock’s cock, which by now was so hard, it had to be painful, John couldn’t quite get into the position that he wanted; Sherlock’s bound arms were in the way.

‘Hold on.’ John said, removing one hand and reaching over for the blunt scissors on the nightstand.

‘I don’t think that we need this anymore.’ John made quick work of the remaining rope, throwing pieces over the side of the bed. Once the final knot had been cut, Sherlock’s arms sprang away from his back to land onto the mattress on either side of him. This time his groan was a combination of relief, pleasure, and pain.

Sherlock was clenching his fists, trying to get the blood flowing again and John leaned over him, rubbing the feeling back into his arms.

‘Better?’ John asked.

Sherlock’s only response was a groan of relief.

‘God, Sherlock. You feel so good.’ John said, pulling out and pushing back in more rapidly now.

Sherlock began thrusting his hips back and impaling himself on John’s cock, harder and harder until John finally gave up on being careful and picked up speed until the entire bed was shaking; headboard banging against the wall.

John sensed Sherlock reaching for his own cock and slapped his hand away.

‘My job.’ He ground out and taking Sherlock in hand, squeezed firmly and began giving his cock long leisurely strokes.

Sherlock was now panting so heavily that John was afraid that he might hyperventilate. He was moaning something unintelligible but it sounded a lot like begging. The idea that Sherlock had lost his icy self-control and that John was the cause of it, made his breath hitch.

John reached over to grab more lube when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He and Sherlock both froze. Waiting.

‘No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Not now! Not again!’ John groaned in a low voice.


	12. Mrs Hudson Appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Hudson interruptus.

‘Just keep going, I’m so close. Don’t stop! Please don’t stop!’

‘Shh...’ John whispered. They’ll know we’re in here if we keep up at the rate we’ve been going.’

‘I don’t care! Serves them right for lurking about in the stairwell.’ Sherlock pulled forward and then pressed backwards, deciding that he’d done with waiting.

‘You hooo! Boys? Detective Inspector Lestrade is here to see you about that case you’ve been working on. He said that he’s been trying to reach you all day but hasn’t gotten an answer so he decided to stop by.’ Mrs Hudson knocked and waited for a response - briefly.

‘It’s not that late but John’s probably sleeping and Sherlock is no doubt lost in one of his experiments.’ Then they heard keys jiggling. 

‘Coming in!’ Mrs Hudson proclaimed loudly.

‘Oh god! They’re coming in!’ John withdrew from Sherlock abruptly who collapsed on the bed, groaning in frustration.

‘Is this EVER going to happen?!’ He moaned.

‘I’m beginning to doubt it.’ John said, barely holding his temper in check.

‘Get rid of them, John. I’m about to call it a night and just masturbate instead.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ Handing the bottle of lube to Sherlock, he said, ‘Here. Make yourself useful and keep it warm for me but DON’T come!’

‘I make no promises!’ Sherlock said, already popping the cap on the lube.

John grabbed the nearest article of clothing to hand and rushed out of the bedroom, accidentally slamming the door behind him.

Lestrade and Mrs Hudson, who had already entered the flat, looked to where the sound had originated. Upon seeing John, they all stared at each other for a moment.

‘Um...John...Detective Inspector Lestrade is here to see you.’ Mrs Hudson said unnecessarily. They both stood there, still staring at John.

‘What are you staring at?’ John looked down. The dressing gown was down to his ankles, obviously too big for him and just as obviously, belonging to Sherlock.

John pulled himself up straighter, tightening the belt then looked at Lestrade and Mrs Hudson, daring them to say something.

Mrs Hudson looked puzzled briefly and John saw the exact moment that understanding dawned in her eyes.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’d best be getting back downstairs. With all of this rain, the hip is acting up.’

‘It’s not raining,’ said Lestrade.

‘Oh, well, it will be.’ And she hurriedly turned to the door, grabbed the knob and made her escape, closing the door so quickly that she caught her dress in the hinges.

Lestrade and John watched as Mrs Hudson’s dress was slowly pulled out of the door as if hoping that no one had noticed that she had trapped herself. 

The dress was finally pulled out with a ’snap’ and was soon followed by the sound of Mrs Hudson’s rapidly retreating footsteps.

‘Hip mustn’t be too bad.’ Lestrade said, smiling.

John, however, wasn’t smiling and stared angrily back at Lestrade, waiting.

‘I, um...tried getting hold of Sherlock and when I shockingly didn’t receive an answer, I tried you next. Then I tried you again a few more times. You always answer your phone, John, so I was worried and thought I’d just pop by on my way home from the Yard.’ Lestrade gave a pained smile.

‘And what was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning.’ John was seething now.

‘It’s just that, with the rate that either or the both of you are kidnapped, I felt it was better safe than sorry and, well, here I am.’ Lestrade said sheepishly.

‘Well, you’ve seen me. Goodnight.’ John said and turned to leave.

‘Ahem,’ Lestrade cleared his throat and John slowly turned around.

‘Yes’ John said, scowling.

‘Is Sherlock here too then?’ Lestrade asked, and then blushed realizing that John had not only come out of Sherlock’s bedroom but had been in the process of returning to it.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of Sherlock’s bedroom door opening so forcefully, that it bounced against the wall, once, twice, three times before finally slowing to a halt. They could hear pieces of plaster crumbling to the floor in the background.

‘Yes, Lestrade. I’m here. What is it?’ Sherlock looked as angry as Lestrade had ever seen him. Then he looked at what Sherlock was wearing. A dressing gown that was obviously too small for him and ending above his knees.

‘Nothing. Nothing. Just making sure everything was ok.’ Lestrade stammered.

‘It will be, just as soon as you’re on the other side of that door.’ Sherlock gestured to the afore mentioned door.

‘I’m sorry. I just worry and you know how...’ Lestrade started.

Sherlock began walking forward, herding Lestrade to the door. Lestrade happened to glance down and that’s when he noticed that Sherlock was carrying a bottle of lube in one hand. He could feel a blush starting at his neck until it heated his entire face.

‘Everything’s fine.’ Sherlock snapped, gesturing with the bottle emphatically. ‘We’re working on a case which you’ve grievously interrupted.’ 

‘Now, if you don’t mind,’ Sherlock strode to the door and wrenched it open with his free hand, ‘We’d like to get back to it.’ Lestrade beat a hasty retreat but not quite fast enough to avoid the door slamming on his arse.

‘Ow!! I’m going!’ They listened to Lestrade stomp heavily down the stairs until they heard the front door open and close.

They both looked at each other for a moment, until John broke the silence saying:

‘I like your robe.’ He smiled and began walking towards Sherlock.

‘I like yours as well.’ Sherlock, also smiling, closed the distance between them.

‘Shall we try again? I don’t think they’ll be back. Not tonight, anyhow.’ John said.

‘I don’t know, John. I’m awfully tired. I think I’ll just go to bed. We can try again tomorrow.’ Smirking, Sherlock turned to leave.

‘Oh no. Don’t you dare move another muscle. We’re doing this right now.’ John, shoving Sherlock against the wall, ripped the robe down his shoulders, trapping his arms.

‘That’s your robe, John.’

‘Bugger the robe.’ Then John pulled Sherlock’s head down to meet his lips and kissed him soundly.


	13. And they lived happily ever after...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time: FINALLY!

Pulling the belt off, John opened the robe, exposing Sherlock’s clearly interested cock. John shoved a knee between Sherlock thighs, then grabbed the lube from his hand. 

Popping the cap, John emptied what Sherlock thought was an excessive amount of lube, into his hand and then grabbed Sherlock’s cock with it. Sherlock threw his head back suddenly where it thumped against the wall.

‘Now. Here’s what’s going to happen, Sherlock.’ John said, applying firm strokes to Sherlock’s suddenly rock hard cock.

‘We’re not going back to the bedroom.’ John squeezed Sherlock’s cock.

‘We’re not?’ Sherlock gasped. 

‘See that table over there?’ John gestured towards the kitchen with his other hand.

‘Ye...ye...yes?’ Sherlock panted.

‘Follow me.’ John said, leading a willing Sherlock by the cock to the table. 

‘I’m going to bend you over this table.’ John said, grabbing a handful of those dark curls with his other hand, and pushed Sherlock’s head down gently until it rested on the table.

‘And fuck you until I’ve wrecked you. I don’t care if the entire Yard shows up to watch; I intend to finish it this time.’

Sherlock gulped.

Throwing the bottle of lube over his shoulder where it landed with a loud thud, John opened his own robe and began stroking his cock with the remaining lube on his hand.

‘Now,’ he said, ‘I don’t expect this to last long but I want to get the first one out of the way. Then we’ll go into your bedroom and I’ll have you again. I guarantee that you’ll be sitting down gingerly for next two days, at least.’

‘Ohhhhh...’ Sherlock sighed and pressed his hips against the table.

’Be gentle, John. This is almost my first time.’

‘We’re way past gentle, Sherlock.’ John replied and flipped up Sherlock’s robe, exposing his gorgeous bottom. Taking his still slick index finger, he began circling Sherlock’s hole, entering him before withdrawing slowly. He quickly moved to three fingers and then hurriedly pressed his cock against Sherlock’s hole. 

‘I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to see dead relatives.’ And then John slid home with a satisfied groan.

John was hitting Sherlock’s prostate with every thrust while simultaneously jerking him off; the sound of heavy breathing soon filled the room.

Sherlock was moaning with abandon now, crying out, ‘John. John! Yes! Fuck me! Harder!’ Sherlock suddenly tightened up and had the most satisfying orgasm of his life. His body relaxed just as suddenly and he leaned in a boneless heap across the table.

As soon as John felt Sherlock’s hole begin to clench around him, he pulled Sherlock’s hips back tightly, and came inside of him for what seemed like a very long time.

John leaned over and kissed Sherlock’s back.

‘Let’s go to bed.’ John whispered as he withdrew from Sherlock. ‘You can talk until I’m ready to fuck you again.’

‘Talk? About what?” Sherlock asked sleepily.

‘It doesn’t matter. Read to me.’ John said, leading Sherlock back to the bedroom.

‘Read to you? Read what?’ Sherlock asked.

John picked up the nearest book and handed it to him. ‘This.’

Sherlock looked at the book. ’You want me to read an English to French translation book to you?” He asked.

‘Sure. Maybe just the bits in French though, yeah?’ John now had his hand on Sherlock’s back, encouraging him to pick up the pace.

As they entered the bedroom, Sherlock stopped, turned around, and giving John a sultry look, said, ‘You know that I’m fluent in French, John.’

‘Then I guess that we won’t be needing this!’ John grabbed the book from Sherlock and threw it across the room where it landed in the laundry amongst all of the other items that had been thrown there in the past 24 hours.

Pulling Sherlock close, John whispered, ’In that case, just talk dirty to me.’ 

Sherlock kissed John passionately and replied, ’Mon plaisir, mon coeur.’ 

‘Oh god.’ John said, going weak at the knees.

In a low voice, Sherlock whispered in John’s ear, ’Seulement cette fois, je vais te baiser.’ 

’What does that mean?’ John asked breathlessly.

’Come here and I’ll show you.’ Sherlock said, and closed the bedroom door softly behind them.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Fit to Be Tied,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638183) by [Megabat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megabat/pseuds/Megabat)




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